


Gandalf the Greying

by Matteic



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: (in a few years at the speed I'm writing it), Cute, Family Fluff, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Horses, I wish I could find witty tags but it's just a fluffy piece so I'll keep them for the big one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-26 11:10:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14999639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matteic/pseuds/Matteic
Summary: Horses and ponies, or the next step in becoming a future king.





	Gandalf the Greying

**Author's Note:**

> With thanks to my beta-reader the-mighty-pen325 (on fanfiction.net)

When Eldarion was four and half, his father sent a letter to the Shire asking for a special gift. He was quite sure it would be the best place to find what the "princeling" (as dubbed by Legolas, after having worn this name for about ten centuries) wanted, namely his own horse.

A good compromise, at last. Now that he knew how to write his name and dress alone, even for the formal dinners (mostly), Eldarion had decided he was a Grown Up and wanted a horse. His mother preferred a horse to a sword but still, on his tiptoes the boy came about his father's hip, and when riding with the King, his legs could not go lower than Roheryn’s saddle.

Aragorn had learned how to ride with a pony, a sturdy thing strikingly contrasting with the noble horses in the stables of Rivendell. As soon as he had learned to climb alone on the liver chestnut back, they went to adventures and quests everywhere, most of the time without a saddle, and soon without any kind of bridle. He had learned to ride the elvish way before his father and brothers thought he was ready to it. Sure, he got a lot of bruises and scrapes, but a nuzzle from Baran and he was consoled.

When it had been time to choose a horse, when he was fourteen and growing like a weed, the brown pony was the only thing of his childhood he left with sadness. Sword training with a real blade, his first patrols, and red chestnut Rusco helped him to get through it. After that, it had been Thorongil's years and Rohirric horses, Swíma, Heofonfýr, Dægmæl, Átan, strong and quick horses, each one with his own personality and quirks. And now the aptly-named Roheryn, who had gone to hell and back with him (twice) and reigned as suzerain on the sixth level stables.

In his letter, Aragorn had explained he wanted for his son's first steed a strong pony, about ten hands, calm and easy going but who would not let the child do nonsense. Actually, he wanted a hobbit-like horse.

Eldarion had been conceived and was born in the end of July, when summer began its sunniest days and fields as gardens exploded with new crops. The day of Eldarion's birth, a young peach tree had been planted in the Seventh Level and when he was four, the little boy thought "ant-all-a" was a feast for his tree, during which he got presents. Today was his sixth ontalla and after eating his peach pie, his Ada had promised him a surprise, coming in a few days. He was a bit disappointed but grinning, his Ada told him he couldn't have all he wanted when he wanted (it was not the first time he told him this), then his Nana read him a story in his new illustrated book, and it was fine.

Two days later, he was playing toy soldiers in his room when his Ada stuck his head in the doorway and told him his surprise was here, he could come. He jumped on his feet, hurried in his boots and ran to the door followed by royal laughter . His father took his hand and led him outside.

They crossed the whole Citadel, greeting everybody they met, passed the Gate and turned right (south, told his Ada). Eldarion had to refrain from jumping up and down when they entered the stables. The head groom saluted him looking like he knew a secret. Too happy to talk, the little boy followed his Ada through the stables, skirting the stalls to get to the paddock behind the building. Still Aragorn could feel a growing anxiety in his son as they passed between the stalls, looking at the powerful horses.

"Ion nîn, do you remember the hobbits who came for Arnélis' birth ? You called them your little friends, they played with you a lot."

The little boy smiled and nodded. Four years after the departure of Frodo, Merry and Pippin had been glad to come visit the King for the birth of the princess and of Elboron. Samwise had to stay with his growing family (and nothing short of another war could push the gardener to such a long trip) but the two youngest of the Fellowship didn't hesitate to travel when Arwen invited them.

"Ada, do hobbits have horses?"

"They do have ponies, like horses but smaller. They use them like we do, to ride or pull carts," explained Aragorn as a groom saluted them and opened a door to the small paddocks where mares and foals were kept. They had chosen this place as it was quieter than the big paddocks on the fifth level. The groom took them to a pen on the East side of the paddock, where two hobbits were waiting with Eldarion's first mount.

The pony was grey and white, its head light slate grey with white blaze, slate forelock, grey throat and chest, white neck, shoulders and mane. A big grey patch seemed to circle its body from back to belly, and it had a smaller patch under the tail. Rump, tail and all four legs were white.

"Hello, young master. This is your new pony," said the curliest of the hobbits after a bow to Aragorn.

The pony turned its head towards them, looking at the newcomers through its heavy forelock, before taking another bite of grass. 

Eldarion was amazed.

Later that day, father and son came back to the Citadel. Eldarion was tired, covered in pony hair and chattering excitedly. He had gotten to ride, walk and trot, brush his pony, take him in his new stall with fresh hay and even put away the harness (a soft bridle and a thick saddle pad). Aragorn wanted his son to do the work himself, as much as possible; never get accustomed to be waited on hands and foot. His children would never get the free childhood he had, protected and carefree, but he could ensure they never became little tyrants, unable to understand the needs of their people.

"Ada, what name should I give to my pony?"

The pony had a hobbit name, Spots, but all people present had agreed it wasn't a good name for a horse.

"It's your choice to make. You need to give him a name he will wear for years, even when he is old and white." Aragorn had recognized the whitish spots in the grey coat; the pony would grey out totally before Eldarion's first sword. He had explained this to the little boy.

"Can ponies have a person's name? Like, somebody who's dead and you admire?"

Knowing where this was going, Aragorn nodded, hiding his amused grin.

"I will name him Gandalf," declared the little prince solemnly. "Gandalf the Greying."

**Author's Note:**

> I love the idea of a little boy idolizing Gandalf, and naming a pony after him is hilarious. Actually I had ideas for a story about his idolizing when I wrote this piece but I forgot them :/
> 
> I took some liberties with the stables from the map of Minas Tirith ; the story wouldn't take place in a closed building and hairy ponies aren't really allowed in the Citadel. Gandalf doesn't belong to a particular species, I just created him like that.
> 
> The Rohirric horses' names come from Old English, and Aragorn's first horses' from their color. 
> 
> Elven pregnancies are exactly one year long and the day of conception is remembered. Eldarion is five years old in this story. I created the word ontalla by mixing Quenya and Finnish, a language Tokien loved. Technically it means "by begetting ".


End file.
